


Serving Milady

by Kimmeh_the_Weird



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fingerfucking, Gendrya - Freeform, Masturbation, Public Masturbation, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, axg, gendrya smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:36:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7071343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmeh_the_Weird/pseuds/Kimmeh_the_Weird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sleeping is hard when a beautiful young woman is playing with herself, thinking you're asleep...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Late Night Mistake

Arya was truly a remarkable young woman who had since Lady Stoneheart's second death taken over her hunt for the Freys, the House invovled in the Red Wedding, the event that had taken her brother and mother from her. She was so devoted to her cause that even when she was told about how her dear halfbrother, Jon, had taken back Winterfell she had refused to go see him before her quest was finished. She was now a woman of five-and-ten and the new leader of The Brotherhood Without Banners - after Lord Beric had given his life to bring Lady Stoneheart back to life and after Lady Stoneheart's halfdead mind had lost all sanity - and you could never think she was ever meant to do anything, but to wield a sword.

Gendry couldn't deny how pretty she had gotten either... Her hair had grown out and was now hanging in a long braid along her back and, although Gendry didn't want to admit that he had noticed, her body had become more womanly with small, but round breasts and wide hips that would most definently make it easy for her to bear children, if she ever were to want to, that is.

After four years of constant battle they had almost hunted the Freys to extinction and only now did Arya allow herself the luxury of meeting her long lost brother: The Lord of Winterfell. For the last couple of days they had stayed at an inn where they all, even Arya, had shared a small hall containing strawbeds big enough to hold two grown men and naturally Arya had chosen the one closest to the wall and made Gendry sleep next to her as protection.

Gendry had gone to bed earlier than most of The Brotherhood, as usual, and had almost fallen asleep when he heard familiar, almost quiet footsteps. He open his eyes just ever so slightly to see Arya standing infront of him. Her breeches fell off her body with a small thud as they hit the ground and if Gendry knew Arya well enough it meant she was now wearing nothing, but her tunic that was too big for her. He had to fight the urge to look under her tunic as she climbed over him to get to her spot and he could feel his cock stiffen. It didn't take long until Arya started making weird noises and breathing heavily.

_Wait, is she?_

He heard what he could only identify as a moan.

_By the Seven! She is!_

He kept listening to her, doing anything in his power not to take himself in hand and start rubbing. He started wondering if she had been doing this the nights before, as well, or if it had just happened this once. He could hear the sound of wet skin rubbing against itself and how she was trying hard not to moan, but occasionally failing to which resulted in shivers being sent down his spine and his cock getting impossibly harder. She started making sounds like the ones she made when she was waiting for something and got too impatient. She was craving to release, but struggled to reach it and as she let out a moan that sounded far too much like his name he couldn't take it anymore and turned around.

Arya froze, her left hand still between her legs, her teeth digging into her bottom lip, her long hair lying across the pillow and a pair of big, grey eyes staring at him in shock.

"Seven hells. Just let me help, will you?" He groaned, but before she even had a chance to answer him he had already replaced her hand with his and was now carefully rubbing the sensitive button.

Although Gendry didn't want any of the girls who approached him he had pleased a few innkeeper's daughters with his fingers throughout the years so that the other men of The Brotherhood would leave him alone. There was only one girl he truly wanted to share his body with though, Arya, but she was highborn and he cared more for her honor than his own needs.

 _If I just please her, but don't let her do anything to me or even so much as kiss me I am just doing my best to tend to my lady's needs._ He convinced himself as he started rubbing more intensely, making her moan. He could feel his cock throb at every moan and he kept telling himself this wasn't for his pleasure.

"Can I put a finger in?" He asked her, teasing her opening with the tip of his index finger.

"Please." She almost begged.

In one swift move his entire finger was inside her tight cunt. She is definently a maiden.

"Another, please." This time she was definenlty begging.

He wanted to take her so badly at this point, but instead he did as she begged and slid another one of his finger in her, making her arch her back at the initial shock.

"Fuck, Gendry." She moaned.

Gendry had heard Arya swear a million times before, but never like this. It had never been so rewarding to hear simple fuck escape those sweet lips of hers and he struggled to not just untie his breeches and pump his cock into her tight, wet cunt.

He pumped his fingers harder and harder inside of her, hooking his fingers ever so slightly to make it even more enjoyable for her until he could tell she was getting close to her release, but instead of letting her reach it he pulled his fingers out. She didn't even have to open her mouth for Gendry to know how angry she was, but it didn't last long as he started moving his head to inbetween her legs. He had never kissed a girl between the legs before, but he had always wanted to taste her and although he knew it was wrong he couldn't help it.

"Can I lick you?" He asked.

The anger all, but disappeared from her face and she nodded.

He dragged his tongue along her wet folds and he could feel her shutter below him. She tasted fucking amazing! He grabbed her hips, pressing her cunt even closer to his mouth and started licking every crevice between her beutiful folds. As he pressed his tongue as far up into her as he possibly could she gasped loudly.

Gendry was praying that none of the others would walk in now, because he feared if they saw Arya like anything less than a warrior they might try to dishonour her.

He moved his tongue up to her little button as he slowly slid his finger inside of her, followed by another. She was moaning loudly now and was biting her tunic in an attempt to quiet them. As she started getting closer to her release he stopped licking her and instead started to thrust his fingers as fast and hard he possibly could until every muscle in her body started tensing and her cunt pressed hard around his finger, telling him she had reached her release. The way her cunt had felt around his fingers would haunt him for a long time, but he was happy to have helped her with this. He sucked her wetness off of his fingers and layed back down on his side of the strawbed with his back turned to her.

It didn't take long until Arya was pressed to his back and her hand was trying to untie his breeches.

"Arya, stop." He groaned as her hand brushed across his hard cock.

"But I need to repay the favor, don't I?" She whispered in his ear with a sweetness he didn't know she was capable of.

"No, Arya." He said and turned to her. "I told you I would serve you unconditionally the day you took the lead of The Brotherhood, and I meant it. I was serving you, nothing more. It would be improper to let you do such a thing to me."

"And having you please me isn't improper?" She asked.

"Letting me please you is the same as having a manwhore do it. I'm your personal manwhore." He explained before turning back around. "Oh, and next time you wish to release just let me know, will you?"

"Fine." She snapped as she turned her back to him. "Your loss."

_Curse my bastard blood!_


	2. Bastard Blood and Apologies

It had been a week since Gendry had caught Arya pleasing herself and had, much to Arya’s surprise, helped her out. Arya hated to admit it, but whenever she saw Gendry work steel, chest bare and sweaty, she could feel the wetness growing between her legs and every time he looked at her with such genuine care and concern she knew that she didn’t only love him like a brother. Arya had never wanted to wed, but within the last year she had thought about wedding Gendry, although she knew that could never happen. He was a bastard and she was a noblewoman and as much as she hated to admit it she knew they could never be together like husband and wife, but maybe they could become secret lovers.

Since that night they had moved on north and were now staying at an inn at The Neck called “The Mermaid and the Frog”. Arya had insisted on needing her own room and that Gendry would have to share the room to protect her, hoping it would give her a chance to seduce him.

“I’m going to sleep now and you all should too; there’s still a long journey ahead of us.” She announced to the drunk men she commanded as she got up on her feet.

Gendry had gone to bed an hour earlier and Arya was hoping he had fallen asleep by now.

Her feet moved swiftly up the stairs of the inn and down the hall until she reached their room. She made sure to lock the door before turning to look at Gendry, who was laying on his back, seemingly fast asleep. She pulled her boots off and let her breeches drop to the floor before crawling into the bed next to him and whispered “Gendry?”

No reply. She whispered a few more times, making sure he was fast asleep. She carefully started touching herself, slowly making her cunt wet. When she thought she was wet enough she sat up and looked at his groin. The two of had shared beds many times in the past and she knew that his cock would often harden as he slept. It was no different this time. She carefully started unlacing Gendry’s breeches and whenever Gendry moved she froze, scared he’d wake up. 

When she had managed to unlace his breeches she carefully pulled them down a bit before getting on top of him, making sure to take it slow so that she would not wake him. She was now sitting on top of him with his cock between her folds which is as close they could even get without him actually being inside of her. She started slowly grinding up and down his member, spreading the wetness across it, and eventually he woke up. At first he just mumbled for her to stop and get off him because he was too tired right now, but when she wouldn’t he looked at her and his eyes went wide.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” He hissed, grabbing her by the hips and and pushing her with just enough force to make her fall onto her side of the bed.

“You told me you’d help me if I needed to release.” She argued.

“With my fingers and mouth, yes,” He said as he relaced his breeches. “But not like that.”

“Gendry, please, I want you.” She begged, crawling up to him where he was sitting at the edge of the bed and hugged his strong back.

Without a word he carefuly pushed her aside and got up, leaving the room. Arya quickly got up and put her breeches and boots back on and ran after him.

 

Gendry was running now, out of the inn and into the woods. Far into the woods, hoping he wouldn’t leave too big of a trace for Arya to follow and as he got to a clearing he stopped.

He started cursing himself and saying how wrong it was for him to want her. “She’s a fucking Lady for fuck’s sake! How could you ever think of doing anything like that to her? You should never have touched her!” He started slamming his fist into a tree in frustration. “You’re just a filthy fucking bastard who needs to learn his place! You can’t keep fantasizing about dishonouring her or you’re no better than your father, whoever that fucker was.”

“I don’t care that you’re a bastard, you know that.” Arya said in a voice so soft he barely recognized her.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I am.” He sighed in frustration.

“I’m so sorry, Gendry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” She almost whispered.

“It’s not your fault, it was I who crossed the line to begin with.” He assured her. “I should have gotten up and left the room that night, not turned around and touched you.”

“Gendry, you did nothing wrong.” She tried to convince him. “I would have done the same if I caught you rubbing your cock.”

_Damnit, Arya. Don’t say it like that…_

“Arya, you’re a lady, you have noble blood.” He said and looked right into her steel grey eyes. “And what am I? I’m a bloody bastard and my father was probably some fucking drunk who didn’t care for anything else than drinking, fighting and fucking. Your brother would have my head if I were to dishonour you.”

“Jon would never do that!” She hissed angrily.

“What man wouldn’t want to hurt the man who dishonoured his sister?” He asked.

“Jon might want to, but he wouldn’t because he won’t hurt anyone who makes me happy.” She argued and Gendry could tell she was getting angry. “Seven hells, Gendry! Why can’t you just stop acting like you’re not good enough for me because you are!” She was yelling now, stomping her feet into the hard ground.

“I’m not!” he yelled back.

Before he could react she had grabbed his shirt and crashed her lips into his. As he felt her soft lips on his all the anger and frustration melted away and he lost all self control. He tangled one hand into her hair while the other hooked around her waist and pulled her closer.

She pulled away and he let go of her.

“Come back to the inn when you have calmed down and when you’re ready to apologise.” She said before walking back the way they came.

 _Apologise for what?_ He wanted to ask, but he was so stunned by what had just happened that even if he tried not a sound would come out.

 

As he made his way back through the forest he realise that it wasn’t a forest, but instead a marsh. In his whirl of emotions he hadn’t even noticed that his boots were filled with water or that he had walked in water so high that his breeches were soaking wet up to his mid-thigh.

He found Arya sitting half naked on the bed, staring at the full moon. She wouldn’t look at him as he crawled up behind her on the bed and took her into his embrace.

“Arya, I am so, so, so, sorry.” He said.

“Sorry for what?” She asked, giving him an angry look.

“I’m sorry that I mislead you, I’m sorry that I lost my temper and I’m more than sorry that I crossed the line and touched you like that.” He whispered and hugged her tighter.

“That’s not why I’m mad.” She sighed.

“Then what are you mad about? I can’t for the love of the Mother figure it out.” He asked and tilted her face so her steel eyes met his bright blue ones. 

“I’m mad about what you said about bastards, what you said about yourself.” She said and wriggled out of his arms. She walked over to the window, staring at the full moon once more. “Gendry, you know I don’t care if you’re highborn or baseborn. I don’t care if your parents were a whore and some fucking drunk or if they’re the fucking king and queen, I like you for you, so why do you keep saying such horrid things about yourself? About all bastards?”

Gendry didn’t know what to say. He had never realised how badly it hurt her when he said these things.

“Arya,” He said in a soft voice and walked up to her. “Look at me.”

She turned to him and leaned herself against the wall. “What?”

He had never seen her like this before. Her voice was cracking and he could tell she was holding back tears.

“I never knew you felt that way, Arya.” He said, looking down at his feet in shame. “Master Mott would always tell me I wasn’t worth a thing and that I was lucky he had taken me on as an apprentice, but more importantly he would always make sure I didn’t see myself as an equal to the highborn.”

Arya threw her arms around his waist, locking them tight. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He said, hugging her back. “You’ve never treated me like that.”

“Gendry?” She whispered, looking up at him with her incredible eyes that shone like white diamonds in the moonlight.

“Yes?” He answered, doing his best to memorize every detail of her face.

“Can we just forget about this and go to sleep?”

“Of course, milady.” He chuckled as he scooped her up into her arms.

“Don’t call me that!” She snapped, playfully hitting his arm.

He put her down on the bed, but just as he was about to crawl into bed with her she stopped him.

“You’re soaking wet.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” He said, looking down at his legs.

“Take them off.” She ordered.

“No, then I’ll have to sleep naked.” He objected.

“Aw, come on.” She sighed. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

He sighed. _She’s right._ “Fine, but no more touching, and especially not with that pretty cunt of yours.”

She giggled. “I’ll do my best.”

He stripped off his clothes until he was standing there totally nude and he couldn’t help, but to feel a little embarrassed. “Please, don’t look at me.” He begged while hanging up his wet clothes.

She giggled again. “If that’s what you wish.” She covered her face with her hands.

Gendry crawled up next to her and pulled one of the furs over himself. “Goodnight, Arya.” He whispered and pulled her close, spooning her with only a thin fur holding the two of them apart.

“Goodnight, Gendry.” She whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose to use this chapter to build the romantical aspect of them cause I don't want it to just be a sexual relationship between them.


	3. Insecurities

This night Gendry couldn’t sleep. Tomorrow they would reach Winterfell, Arya’s home, and she would be quick to forget about him. It hurt to think about. All the memories, all the late night conversations, all the tears she’d shed in the comfort of his arm; all of it would be forgotten the moment they reached Winterfell. She’d be happy, of course, when she was finally reunited with her brothers and sister, but Gendry would be forced to watch her live a happy life without him in it, except for the occasional visit in the forge to fix her armour or weapons. That is if he would be allowed to stay.

He was lying on his back in the bed they both shared with her arm lying across his chest and his leg intertwined with hers. He listened to her slow breathing and with his eyes closed and arm curled around her for safety and warmth, he tried to match her breathing. To think that by this time tomorrow he would be nothing more than a faint memory of her past, something she'd probably never miss, seemed so unreal in that moment.

"I don't know how to feel." She said, breaking the silence.

"Feel about what?" He asked.

"Tomorrow." She explained. "I've been wanting to go back to Winterfell since the day I left it, but it is no longer the Winterfell I used to know. There will no longer be the laughing and screaming of Rickon while he plays. No Bran climbing the towers and walls, no matter how many times Mother told him not to. No more of Mother's nagging. No more lessons from my father. I will no longer be able to interrupt Robb's Lord training. No cocky Theon, but Sansa will probably still be just as annoying, which I guess is good." She sighed and sat up, curling into a fetal position. "And then there's Jon."

Gendry sat up next to her and put his arm around her. "What about him?"

"He won't be the same boy I knew as a child anymore."

"Well, you won't be the same small girl he knew either." He said, trying to comfort her. "You've changed a lot in the last six years too."

"I know, but I feel as if now that he's Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North he won't have time for me anymore."

"Arya, he's your brother." He pulled her up into his lap and hugged her reassuringly. "He won't forget about you any time soon and if I know anything from all the stories you've told he'll probably ignore his duties at times to have fun with you."

"I guess," She whispered, biting her bottom lip nervously. "But what if he starts talking about marriage?"

His heart skipped a beat and for a moment he couldn't breathe. Arya would be wed off to someone. Of course it had crossed his mind, but when the words came out of her mouth it somehow made them more real.

"I hope not." He said and chuckled. "I'd feel bad for the lord who married you."

"Fuck off." She said and punched him in the chest.

"This is what I'm talking about!" He exclaimed, laughing loudly. "Most lords don't want women who'll fight you on everything you ever say and do. They want pretty idiots who they fuck when they feel like it and who will birth them sons to inherit their stupid titles and land."

"Shut up." She barely whispered and got out of his lap. She walked over the fire place and sat down.

She was so quiet; so small and fragile. He'd never seen her this way before.

Did he hurt her feelings? He never meant to.

He quickly got out of the bed and almost ran over to her.

"Arya..." He said and fell to his knees in front of her, head low in shame. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I promise. I just wanted to make you laugh."

She just sat there in silence, making him feel even worse.

"What I meant was that you need a lord who is man enough to listen to you and who understands that you won't just follow his orders and never disrespect him. A man who knows he has to earn your respect." He explained. "I beg your pardon, milady. Please forgive me."

"Don't call me milady, stupid." She teased and slapped him on the arm.

He smiled, knowing he was forgiven. "As milady commands."

She punched him in the chest. "What did I just tell you?"

He started laughing.

"We should sleep, there is a long day ahead of us." She said and got up.

He followed her into the bed and it didn't take long until they were snuggled up next to each other, his arms around her. Her back was pressed against his chest and although he hated to admit that he noticed it, he could definitely tell that her ass was pressed against his groin. Any time that she moved it got even more obvious as he started to harden. He tried to carefully move away, but she just followed him, with that perfect ass of hers, and so he gave in to her will.

"Would you like it if you married me?" She asked, hugging his arm tightly.

"It doesn't matter; I'm not a lord." He said, not wanting to answer her question.

"I know, but if you were one; would you?" She pried.

"It doesn't matter since I will never be a lord." He almost growled. "You should sleep, Arya. Just like you said; we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Stupid bull." She mumbled before closing her eyes to sleep.

_Oh, Arya, if you only knew..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally forgot about this story, which I am terribly sorry about, but I finally got myself to write another chapter and I'm planning on 2 or 3 more. Hope you enjoy! :3


	4. Reunions

"Listen up, Dickheads!" Arya exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of the Brotherhood and a few passerbys. "No one is allowed to cause any trouble while I'm not here. If you need something to do then go in here." She gestured to the large stone building behind her. "That's the Winter Rose, an inn - and the closest thing that we have to a whorehouse - which I hope will suffice to entertain you, assholes. And one final thing; if any of you fucks cause trouble I will cut your cock off and shove it so far up your ass you can taste it. Got that?" 

 

The men of the Brotherhood nodded before hurrying into the Winter Rose. 

 

They'd been riding since the sun rose that morning. While the men had ridden on the back of horses and mules, Arya had been mounted atop her direwolf, Nymeria, who had found her a few years earlier. By suppertime they'd finally reached the Winter Town outside of Winterfell's walls. She didn't really want to bring the foul men she'd surrounded herself with into Winterfell, because Sansa would lecture her about how appalling and dangerous they were, just like Mother, so Arya decided to leave all her men outside the walls, save one. 

 

With Gendry by her side they rode up to the entrance of her home. She could feel the butterflies dance in her stomach and hear music from inside the fortress. She was nervous, excited, happy, frightened and close to tears, all at once. 

 

What if it was nothing like her memories? What if Jon didn't recognise or even remember her? 

 

"Stop there!" A guard yelled as they started nearing the large gates. 

 

"Who are you?" Yelled a second guard, this one a woman. 

 

"Lady Arya Stark and my squire Gendry Waters." She stated clearly. 

 

At first the guards didn't believe her, but as Nymeria stepped into the light of their torches, their behaviour quickly changed. 

 

"I can't believe you're alive, my lady." The female guard exclaimed, looking as if she'd just seen a ghost. 

"I need to see Jon and Sansa." Arya clarified. "Can you let me and my squire in?" 

The two guards scrambled to open the gate. "O-of course, my lady." 

"Thank you." Arya said and smiled. 

"Lord Stark and family are attending the feast in the Great Hall." 

 

"Feast for what?" 

 

"This day a year ago the last battle for the dawn was fought." The female guard explained. "A year ago, Lord Stark and Queen Daenerys drove the Others back up North of the Wall for good and stopped the Long Night." 

 

Arya thanked the guards once more before riding through the gates with Gendry following closely behind on his horse. Winterfell looked different. Several buildings and a tower had been burned to the ground and eventually someone had tried to rebuild them. While the new building looked nice and were well built, they looked far different compared to the old buildings. As Arya and Gendry dismounted she felt like she was going to throw up or faint and Gendry had to help her not fall off of Nymeria. The door to the Great Hall was left wide open and the hall itself was filled with people she didn't recognise. Some of the guest Arya could easily tell had once been wildlings living North of the wall, while others where lords, ladies and other northerners she might've met when she was younger, but she couldn't remember any of them. 

 

At the end of the hall, by the large table Arya had been seated at countless times during feasts, sat Jon and Sansa together with thirteen others. To Jon's left sat Sansa, looking as proper as ever, and to his right was a woman with hair like honey, her fingers intertwined with his. Next to the honey-haired woman sat a woman that looked to be her sister with a child in her lap. The sister sat next to a slender man with long hair that had mostly greyed. The slender man leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before taking the child out of her lap and placing him in his own lap. They must be husband and wife. 

 

There were two large men sat at one end of the table. One of them Arya recognised as Greatjon Umber, one of her father's vassals, and the other was far shorter, but even more muscular. He had a long, white beard and around his arms were two large gold bands. 

 

Between the two giant men sat a girl, about the same age as Arya, with that long, dark hair that so many northerners, Arya included, had. The long sleeves of her dress were emblazoned with the bear of House Mormont. 

 

On the other end of the table sat a girl, probably around the same age as Gendry and Jon, with long brown curls falling in front of her face. She was whispering to the fat Maester sat alongside her with a boy sat in his lap. The small boy was not cute like most of the children, but instead looked almost monstrous with his disfigured face. 

 

Next to the Maester and the ugly child sat a southron woman in a yellow gown with a pretty baby girl in her lap. The young girl had the same Tully red curls Sansa and most of Arya's brothers had. Lady Stoneheart had spoken of how a child had costed her and Robb their lives, and Arya couldn't help but wonder if that could be Robb's daughter. 

 

Behind Sansa stood a ginormous woman in the Stark Guard uniform, her hand rested firmly on the pommel of her sword. She wasn't even close to beautiful, nose crooked and mouth far too large for her face, but she didn't need to be beautiful because she was a soldier. 

 

Then Arya's eyes locked on the two boys sat next to Sansa. They had the, oh so familiar, Tully red hair and kind smiles that could only belong to her brothers. 

 

_They were alive! Bran and Rickon were alive!_

 

Before she could think anything else she started running down the centre of the hall with Nymeria right on her heels. 

 

"Bran! Rickon! You're alive!" There were tears streaming down her face. "Jon! Sansa! I'm home!" 

 

Sansa, Jon and Rickon stood up. Jon started running towards her and at some point, the two crashed into each other, their arms gripping tight at each other. They were both crying into each other's shoulders as they voiced how much they had missed the other. The next time Arya opened her eyes she had Sansa, Rickon, Gendry and the giant woman with Bran in her arms looming over them. 

 

She let go of Jon and pulled Rickon into her arms. Rickon, her insecure little brother who had been only three years of age when she had left for King's Landing, he should've just turned nine years and he was still alive! He hugged her tightly, sobbing into her chest. 

 

"Don't ever leave again!" He cried. 

 

"Don't worry, Rickon, I don't plan on it." She reassured, running her dirty, calloused fingers through his hair. 

 

"Good." He let go of Arya, so that she could hug Sansa. 

 

Sansa cried and laughed at once as the two hugged for the first time since Arya was five. 

 

"You look like you haven't had a bath since you disappeared in King's Landing." She scorned jokingly. "And you smell like it too." The two of them laughed. 

 

"Trust me, you're not too far off." 

 

Sansa broke their embrace, taking Arya's hands in hers instead. The two sapphires she had for eyes looked right into Arya's dull ones. 

 

"I'm so sorry I didn't listen to what you said about Joffrey. You were right, he was a horrible person." 

 

"It's fine, Sansa." Arya reassured. 

 

The giant woman had sat Bran down on one of the benches nearby, forcing a guest to stand so that Bran could take his seat. Arya turned her attention to her brother, cradling his face in her hands. He had grown so much since the last time she'd seen him. He was no longer a boy, but instead she saw a young man with a strong jaw and a wispy moustache kissing his upper lip. 

 

"The last time I saw you, you were unconscious." 

 

"I'm awake now, but my legs don't work anymore." He looked down at both of their feet. 

 

She started smiling. "Who fucking cares? You're alive!" She pulled him into her firm embrace. She still could not believe that her two baby brothers were alive. 

 

"He may not be able to walk, but he's become a greenseer, which makes him more powerful than any one man, or woman, in the Known World." Jon explained, looking extremely proud of their baby brother. 

 

Arya remembered Old Nan's stories of the Children of the Forest and the greenseers, but she couldn't remember ever having heard of human greenseers. 

 

Sansa cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Arya, who is this?" She asked, gesturing towards Gendry. 

 

Arya had completely forgotten that he had accompanied her into the fortress, but as she was reminded she felt guilty. 

 

"This is Ser Gendry Waters of the Hollow Hill," She said, letting go of Bran. "My second in command." 

 

There it was, the same face Mother would put on at the sight of Jon, taking over Sansa's smile. No matter how much Sansa tried to hide it, Arya could tell she was revolted by the sight of the dirty bastard. The two had never really been close, but when you grow up together you learn how to communicate without words, something that Sansa had more often than not used to scorn Arya. 

 

Arya shot her sister a look, that pretty much said, " _don't be such a fucking cunt_ ". 

 

As the sisters stared each other down Jon walked up to Gendry and greeted him with a firm handshake. Gendry stared at Jon in shock as he did. Arya could only imagine that his shock stemmed from him believing none of her family would respect or even be nice to him, not even her bastard brother. 

 

Jon placed his hand on Gendry's shoulder. "Thank you, Ser Gendry Waters of the Hollow Hill, for keeping my sister safe." 

 

Arya chuckled loudly. "You obviously haven't seen me in action. If anything, I was keeping him safe." 

 

"Wait," Jon turned to Arya. "Someone taught you how to fight?" 

 

She pulled Needle out of its sheath and got into a battle stance. "You really think I would just sit back while there was a war being fought around me?" 

 

He smiled. "You still have that sword I gave you." 

 

"Of course; I would never leave it behind." She sheathed Needle. "Gendry is a skilled smith and it would be wise to let him work in our forge." 

 

"How skilled?" Sansa asked, her face perfectly mirroring their mother's when she had been sceptical and disapproving. 

 

Arya threw her sister another angry look before motioning to her armour. "He made this." 

 

The armour had been reworked from armour they had looted off of dead men, mostly Freys, but it fit her perfectly and was light enough to not restrain her movement. 

 

Gendry finally spoke, "I beg your pardon, milady, but I also made this." He got down on his knees and took the giant warhammer, _Bull's Fury_ , off of his back. 

 

Both Jon and Sansa inspected the weapon, although Arya doubted her sister knew anything about good craftmanship. 

 

Sansa stared at the warhammer, seemingly unimpressed, as Jon placed his hand upon Gendry's shoulder once more, "Welcome to Winterfell, you start working tomorrow." 

 

Gendry nodded humbly. "Thank you, milord." 

 

The rest of that night was mostly a blur, the consequence of a lot of emotions, new people and a little too much wine, she guessed, but when she woke up the next morning she was curled up next to Nymeria in her childhood bedroom and she couldn't help, but to miss Gendry's presence.


	5. Chapter 5

Gendry had been living within the walls of Winterfell for a fortnight, working hard in the forge to prove himself to Lady Stark - Arya's sister, not the lord's wife - and Lord Stark himself.

Most of the guard and staff seemed nice and one of the kitchen wenches had even found a strong liking for him, but he had barely seen Arya since the night of their arrival which meant he might as well could've stayed at the inn at the Crossroads with the Heddle sisters. He knew this would happen. He knew she would forget about him the moment she got reunited with her real family. He knew she didn't really care for him.

There was a loud clang as his hammer met the hot metal. The sound soothed him, made sure his focus was purely on his work and not on the heat surrounding him, or the kitchen wench who had come by with his dinner a few hours earlier, hoping to get his attention, or the dumb northern woman and her fierce attitude. Definitely not the northern woman, or so he wished. 

He knew he had no right to be angry. She was a noblewoman and he was, and was forever going to be, a bloody bastard. He'd been lucky to even get as close to her as he'd gotten and he should be happy with the fact that he got to know her, but it was difficult. She was the only one he can remember who had seemed truly cared about him. His mother died when he'd been young. Tobho Mott had sold him to the Night's Watch. Yoren had died and so, had Beric. She was the only one who'd stayed. Until now.

He remembered that night a year ago when neither of them had been able to sleep and they had sat on a rock together, staring out at the Trident in silence. 

_"Gendry?" She had whispered, breaking their silence._

_"Yes?" He had replied and turned all his attention on her._

_"W_ _hen the_ _snow falls and_ _the white_ _winds_ _blow_ _,_ _the lone wolf_ _dies_ _, but_ _the pack survives._ _" She'd whispered, fiddling with one of her daggers._

_He'd been confused, unsure of what to say until she spoke again,_

_"_ _My_ _father told me that once, when he was still alive."_

_He'd wrapped his arm around_ _her_ _, still unsure of what to say._ _She had_ _turned to look at him and for the first time Gendry had noticed how incredible her eyes were. There, in the middle of the night with the full moon above them,_ _he had been_ _captivated by her._

_"Gendry, you are_ _my_ _pack." She had looked at_ _him as_ _if she was terrified, although whether that had been_ _his imagination or something else he would never know._

_He had smiled at her and promised her he would never abandon her. She had taken his hand in hers and_ _pro_ _mised_ _the same._

And now they were here.

With every slam of his hammer he could feel himself growing furious. At first, he tried to fight it, telling himself he was being childish, but it was only a matter of time before he could feel a fire burning inside of him. The fire in the forge was only a small spark in comparison to the one in his chest.

_You said you'd never abandon me. Liar! You didn't even wish me farewell! You just left! Disap_ _peared! Bloody bi-._

The heavy doors of the forge opened, letting in the cool airs of early spring. He put down his tools and turned to meet whoever had chosen to visit him right before midnight. It was Arya. Of course, it fucking was. He sighed loudly, took his gloves off and threw them on the large table in the middle of the forge. He stared at her. She looked anxious, but there was also something else there; fear or maybe even... shame?

They stood there, staring at each other in silence as Gendry tried to quell the fury still burning in his chest.

Arya had been the first one to speak, "Gendry, I'm sorry."

He wanted to scream at her, wanted to tell her just how much her absence had hurt, but something in the way she was looking at him, that acknowledging look of shame, stopped him. She still cared for him and he still cared for her, to yell at her wouldn't help anything. She walked up to him and reached her hand over the table to touch his.

"I wanted to come by sooner," She looked down at their hands. "Sansa doesn't like you. It's nothing personal, she's just been taught that bastards don't mean any well by our mother and the Septa who helped raise us."

He took his hand away and turned around. "Since when do you listen to other wishes?"

"I don't have much of a choice." She moved around the table. "She's ordered several of the guards to keep me away from here, away from you, even though she'd never admit to it."

"But you managed to get away from them now, or something?" He almost mocked.

"Yes, but I had to climb out my window and run across the rooftops to do so."

She reached out to touch him, but he shrugged her off.

"Seven hells, Gendry!" She snapped in frustration. "At least fucking look at me!"

He sighed, clenching his teeth and fists to stop himself from yelling, and turned to look at her.

"I said something stupid to Sansa." She blurted out.

"What?" He started to feel nervous.

"We were arguing about what I had done during my time in the Riverlands, about my 'duties' as a noblewoman, about the Brotherhood and about you."

"And?"

"I told her you took my maidenhead."

" _What?!_ " He grabbed her. "Seven hells, Arya! What the fuck were you bloody thinking?"

"I wasn't fucking thinking!" She exclaimed. "I was angry. I wanted to piss her off. I was being stupid!"

He let go of her and started walking around the room anxiously. "She'll have me bloody gelded, I swear."

"She won't." Arya reassured. "Jon would never agree to such a thing."

He still wasn't convinced. "By the Seven, Arya, how did you even come up with such a thing?"

"It's not like you're completely innocent, neither of us are."

He stopped and looked at her. "I know." He sighed.

He knew it had been a bad idea to touch her like that. He knew, so why did he do it? Because he was frustrated? Because he wanted to help her? Because he felt it was his duty? No. None of those things were true; he'd touched her because he wanted to. Because he wanted her. Because he needed to know what she felt, tasted and sounded like. He was a bloody fool. A fucking bastard.

"There is nothing we can do now to fix this. She'd never believe me if I told her it was all a lie." Arya sighed. "I'm so sorry, Gendry, I fucked up."

He wanted to be angry with her, but he knew she had meant no harm and that apologising was something that had never been easy for her. He hugged her tightly.

"I'm still mad, but I know you meant no harm, you fucking hothead." He whispered.

She hugged him back.

Even through the thick furs she was wearing he could feel the way her body was shaped, all of her perfect curves. He didn't really want to admit it, but he wanted to trace each one of her curves with his fingers and his lips. He wanted to feel her lips on his again. He wanted to know the way she'd feel around him and what sweet sounds would leave her throat as he got to know just that, but those thoughts would remain only in his dreams for the rest of eternity.

"There's something else as well." She whispered.

He pulled away from their embrace and leaned up against the table. "What did you do?"

She started pacing around the room. "Me and Jon have been talking, discussing the future of our broken House and the duties that follow along with it."

He looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.

"We decided the best thing for the North and us, the Starks, is for me to marry."

He froze. Four thoughts started spinning around in his head, making him dizzy.

_What happened to you within the last fortnight?_

_Have_ _the horrors of_ _war_ _finally_ _caught_ _up_ _to you?_

_Have you gone fucking mad?_

_What about us?_

He used the table to stabilize himself. "By the Father's cock, Arya, what threat did he have to make for you to agree to that?"

"He didn't have to threaten me. We discussed it and it was what made the most sense politically." She stopped pacing. "And I thought about what you said, the night before we came here, about how I needed to marry someone who respects strong women, who respect me, and with Jon's promise to let me choose it didn't seem as frightening anymore."

He could feel his heart breaking, but he had no right to be angry or hurt. She wasn't his.

"Who is he?" He asked, putting all his energy into sounding like he was okay.

"I don't know yet. There will be a feast tomorrow where I will start meeting different suitors. I doubt anyone would actually want me, but I thought you deserved to know, especially considering our history." She took a hold of his hand, caressing it softly.

"You should probably leave." He said and made her let go of his hand. "Before they realise you're gone."

It hurt too much to be around her right now. He needed time to clear his head and that was something he couldn't do in her presence. 

She stood awkwardly and stared at their feet, not making a sound.

What had happened to them? A fortnight prior the two of them had been curled up next to each other in the same bed, sharing almost every intimate detail of their lives with ease – Things like when she bled, the way women do, for the first time or what it had felt like the first time they had killed someone - and now they were here. He felt as if he barely knew the girl standing in front of him anymore. What had happened to the warrior queen he'd fought alongside for so many years? Did she leave that woman at the gates of Winterfell alongside her old life? Or maybe it had been her new life she left at the gates and instead she adopted the mind of the child she'd been before she left Winterfell all those years ago? Either way he didn't feel like he knew the woman in front of him anymore.

"I will be at the feast, Arya. I promise." He said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Just make sure you get back before someone realises where you've been and decide to geld me."

She locked eyes with him and for a moment it felt as if like the two of them were suspended in time and space. He could feel her hand gripping his leather apron tightly and in the next moment their lips met. Her lips were soft, just like they had been the first time. He wanted to grab her and pull her close, but just as fast as she'd kissed him she had pulled away and snuck out through the large forge doors, leaving him more confused than ever.

He was left alone in the empty forge with only one thought on his mind;

_Please, Arya, don't marry._


End file.
